


Say it First

by sponsormusings



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Prompts in Panem
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-20
Updated: 2014-03-20
Packaged: 2018-01-16 10:11:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1343692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sponsormusings/pseuds/sponsormusings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For 6 months, the L word had been on the tip of Peeta’s tongue, desperate to escape. For 5 months, 29 days and 23 hours, he'd been biting it back.</p><p>A future-take for the completed fic, The Third Wheel.</p><p>A submission for Prompts in Panem, March 2014. Day 4.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Say it First

**Author's Note:**

> This is future take for my fic The Third Wheel. That doesn't need to be read for this one to make sense, but it does give you a bit of background into their relationship :)

The pale early morning sun drifted through the window, its fingers curling over the bed, stretching towards the body huddled under the quilt against the morning chill. He liked the way its yellow hue would creep towards her slowly, unexpectedly, and then in an instant be upon her, like the sun knew exactly where to highlight his favourite parts of her. He liked to think he was kind of like those rays of light; that he'd crept up on her before she'd even realised it.

_He was thankful she was asleep, because if she knew what he was thinking, she'd probably eye-roll so hard she'd fall out of bed._

Lacing his fingers across his chest, Peeta rested against the bedhead and allowed his eyes to trace the curves of his girlfriend’s body under the quilt. It wasn't often that she slept later than him on the mornings after she stayed over, normally up as the sun rose and nudging him until he pulled himself grumpily from his dreams. He hadn't had to pull bakers hours since he'd left home for college, and had absolutely no intention of doing so again.

But the last few weekends she'd slept later than him almost every time. And it wasn't just her sleeping patterns that were odd, really. It was everything.

Katniss had been acting weird for weeks.

He got it; she wasn't a fan of winter, and it was dragging on like a bitch this year. It was already March and spring still felt like light years away.

He knew she was worried about school, and a grant proposal she'd put in for additional equipment for the science department. And Madge's growing belly and penchant to call at weird hours of the night asking for reassurance that Katniss had no idea how to give had her at a loss.

But it didn't explain the long, extended silences, the weird clearing of her throat, the way he'd catch her staring at him occasionally with a disturbed look on her face. He'd gone to ask her half a dozen times what was wrong, but as soon as he went to, the moment would break, and she'd be fine again.

He knew, sometimes, Katniss just needed a little time to work through whatever was bothering her on her own; she’d told him so herself. So he was letting it lie for now, letting her sort out whatever she needed to.

Bored, and figuring he'd give her some of her own medicine, Peeta slipped his hand under the sheet, curved his hand over her hip. He knew if he danced his fingers just two inches lower he'd find that ticklish spot that-

"Argh!"

"Gah, dammit Peeta, quit it!" Katniss squirmed, pushing at his hand until it fell to the mattress; he laughed, sliding down until they were face to face. She glared at him, blew a strand of hair from out of her eyes. "Why did you wake me?" Her voice was petulant, like so many of his students on a Monday morning.

"Because you looked all pretty and content and I...hell, I wanted to get you back for tickling me in the kitchen yesterday," he said with a grin.

"Hate you," she mumbled, turning and pushing her face into the pillow.

"No you don't," he teased. He slid his arm across her hips, drew her into his side, her skin warm against his. "You lo - _like_ me too much to hate me." _Shit._

Inside, he was already cringing, even without the tensing of her body to remind him that he'd almost said something wrong.

_For 6 months, the L word had been on the tip of Peeta’s tongue, desperate to escape. For 5 months, 29 days and 23 hours, he'd been biting it back._

********

_It had started a week after the wedding, a week after they'd finally 'come out' at school about their relationship. Katniss had stayed behind while he met with Cressida and some of the seniors about this year's school play, and sometime after 4 o'clock he'd ventured out to the car park. He'd seen her from a distance, perched on the hood of his car, eyes fixed studiously on the e-reader in her hand. He knew she'd had a parent-teacher meeting after her last class, and had dressed herself accordingly. And by that, he meant that he'd been daydreaming about getting her out of the slim pencil skirt ever since he'd seen her in it at lunch._

_He wouldn't begrudge his afternoon students if they didn't remember their lessons, because he sure as hell didn't._

_But the closer he got to her, the harder his heart pounded, the more light headed he felt, the more overwhelmed he felt. And when she looked up at him, her lips curving slightly in the way he knew she only ever directed at him, it hit him._

_But he didn't say anything._

_Two weeks later, sprawled on the floor of her bedroom, spent and sweaty and satiated, he'd twisted his fingers through hers and opened his mouth._

_Then closed it again._

_Four weeks after that, he'd smiled as she'd snuck up behind him in his kitchen, wrapping her arms around his waist and brushing his cheek with her hair. And he'd said, without thinking 'That’s one of the things I love about you'._

_Her arms had slipped from his waist almost immediately and she'd moved quietly from the room before he'd realised what he'd said._

_He knew it was too soon for her, knew he'd have to bide his time. He'd already waited long enough for them to become a couple; he could wait a bit longer for this._

_So he did._

********

"Give me your pop tart."

"What?"

"Give me your pop tart, Mellark, or I swear to God I'll start crying." The big blue eyes of Madge Undersee-Hawthorne glared at him across the staff room table, her hand held out expectantly.

"But...it's strawberry," Peeta protested weakly.

"Then even better, coz they're my favourite. Hand it over, Blondie. You're not gonna argue with a pregnant lady are you?"

Peeta glanced at the pop tart he'd yet to unwrap, then into the determined face in front of him, and sighed. Nipping it from his fingers, she grinned happily, ripping the wrapping off and biting into it enthusiastically.

"Ahhh Peeta, your college appetite is the best," she grinned around a mouthful of buttery looking crust.

He shook his head, but couldn't stop his own grin. "I'm going to be happy when you've had that kid and you stop stealing my lunch."

"You gave her your pop tart again?" Katniss said, dropping into the third seat and looking at Peeta pointedly. "You're so weak for a pretty face."

"I know," he smiled, leaning over and pressing a kiss to her cheek. She blushed, but didn't say anything, only linked her hand with his under the table.

"Blurgh," Madge groaned. "You guys are gross."

"Shut up, Madge," Katniss replied, "Or do you want me to cancel that baby shower you're making me organise?"

Peeta tuned out as Madge began to talk excitedly about nurseries and diaper bags and cakes shaped like storks. He liked kids - a lot - but there were some things he just didn’t need to know about. Instead he fixed the rolls of his sleeves - what had once been an occasional habit had now become something he permanently did, even if it was only to watch Katniss as she stared at his arms - and absently thought about what he still needed to get sorted out for the play. Which, as he ran through it in his head, was a lot.

With a resigned nod, he pushed his chair back. “Alright, now that Katniss is here to keep you company, Underthorne, I’m going to head back to class,” he announced, standing up. Madge smirked at his playful nickname and surreptitiously flipped him the bird.

“You’re going already?” He could hear the pout in Katniss’ voice, relished in the fact that it meant she wanted to be with him. It never failed to make his day.

He nodded.  “Yep. I’ve got some sets I want to start sketching out for the play, and my gear is back in the classroom.”

“Ok then,” She replied, trying and failing to hide the sigh in her voice.  “I’ll see you after school.”

“Yep.” Peeta reached over, squeezed her hand, and grinned at Madge. “Enjoy your Tuesday afternoon classes, ladies.”  He moved towards the door, hooking his backpack over his shoulder as he went.

“Peeta!” He turned to see Katniss hurrying over to him, apology on her face.  “Sorry, I forgot that Madge asked me to do something with her this afternoon.  Can I come over after that?”

“Sure.  Gives me time to finish any sketches I don’t get done now.  Do you want me to make dinner?”

Katniss grinned.  “I thought you’d never offer.  And maybe, after…”

“After?”

She chuckled. “If you can’t figure it out, I won’t tell you. I’ll see you around 6.” She turned on her heel, made her way back to Madge.  He was certain she was swinging her hips just that little bit more than usual, just for his benefit.

If anyone had told him a year ago that the teacher he interrupted in the middle of her class, who brushed him off with a raised eyebrow and abrupt directions, would be in his bed tonight, he would have laughed.

He would have hoped it would be true, but he would have laughed anyway.

********

He opened the door that night to find Katniss, face pale, her hand still half-raised in a knock. Her eyes were glassy, her mouth hanging open.

“Kat, are you ok?” Peeta asked, ushering her inside and closing the door behind her. He pulled the jacket from her shoulders, threw it over the back of the sofa.  She was still frozen in place. “Katniss? Babe? What’s going on?”

Her mouth opened and closed. “Gale had to stay late at work,” she mumbled.

“Yeah….”

“Madge had a Lamaze class…”

“Yeah?”

She took a deep breath. “I went with her. That’s what she wanted me to do with her. They...they showed a video.”

Peeta’s brow furrowed in confusion. “They showed an - _ohhhhhh._ ” He cringed on her behalf as the realisation hit. He’d heard of those videos - Finnick, his brother Aaran’s roommate from college, had had a baby with his wife the year before.  He’d explained - in graphic detail, over at least ten beers - the video they’d watched of someone giving birth.

“They push babies out of their…” she trailed off again, but at least looked up at him, her jaw still loose. “Peeta, it was...” She simply shook her head, lost for words.

He chuckled, slid his arm around her waist, plucking the pencil he’d slid behind his ear and tossing it towards the table. “Babe, it’s called childbirth. It happens, you know that."

“But I don’t need to _see_ it in that much detail," she shivered dramatically.

"I’ve heard those things aren’t compulsory to watch."

"Madge had my hand in a death grip.  Either I stayed, or just my disembodied hand did." She grimaced. “Ok, take my mind off it. What’s for dinner?”

“Dinner,” Peeta started, “Includes my famous cheese buns, and homemade meatballs.”

“You spoil me,” she smiled, and he could feel her thawing, the rigidity in her body loosening as she got back into a situation that was comfortable, familiar.

“I do. Do you want to have a shower before dinner?”

“That’s a good idea, thanks." She squeezed his hand, made her way down the hall to the bathroom.

She was quiet during the meal, but attentive, listened to him as he talked of his 11th graders, and the pottery elective he had starting next week. She helped him with the dishes without complaint, and she fell asleep with her head on his shoulder as they watched TV, a book on her lap and her glasses tipped on the edge of her nose.

With a small sigh he flicked the TV off, put the book on the coffee table, slipped off her glasses and rested them on the book. He drew her gently from the sofa, her body limp as spaghetti in his arms, and carried her through to the bedroom. Laying her down on top of the covers, he studied her. She still wasn't the same Katniss he knew, the one who'd become the biggest part of his life within a year. Something just wasn’t right. And he wished she'd tell him what was on her mind.

********

"Have you told her yet?"

"Told who what?"

"Have you told Katniss you're in _looooove_ with her?"

"Shit, Finn, how old are you?"

Finnick laughed down the phone. "Ahh, Peet, you're almost as much to make fun of as Katniss is."

“Shut up, douchebag.” Sometimes it was easy to forget that Finnick Odair was his elder by two years, a friendship formed through Peeta’s older brother during their stint at college.  In the last couple of years, Finnick had been his go-to guy, and he Finnick’s.  He’d been Finnick’s best man, was his son Dylan’s godfather.  Finnick had been the first person he’d introduced Katniss to.

It was times like this he almost regretted it.

“Ah, come on, Peet, you know I’m just kidding.  But you just need to tell her already, seriously.  You’ve said those words to me more than you have her.”

“I was drunk,” Peeta countered, pulling himself up onto the kitchen counter and cradling the phone between his shoulder and ear as he reached for a notepad and pencil, absently doodling in the margins.

“When you’re drunk, you’re honest,” Finnick chuckled. “But what’s the deal? Why don’t you just tell her already?”

“I’ve already scared her off a couple of times,” He murmured, watching as her face began to form on the page.  “She just doesn’t want to hear it.  Plus...she’s been acting odd lately.  I don’t know what it is.”

“Is there anything going on at school?”

“The same old. The kids are getting shitty because...well, its school.  She’s got a grant submission in, but we both think she’s got a good chance of having it approved.”

“What about her friend? The one who’s having a baby? Do you think that’s it?”

“What’s it?” Peeta shaded in the length of the braid he’d just drawn, but in graphite, it would never have the shining, dark hued strands she had in real life.

“Dude, her best friend is having a baby, and when that happens, your life changes.  Trust me, I know.” He chuckled down the phone, even as a high pitched child-like squeal echoed in the background. “Maybe she’s worried their friendship is going to change.”

“Hmm.” Peeta put the pencil down, chewed on his bottom lip. “Maybe you’re right.  I guess I’ll have to ask her.”

“You should. After you tell her you love her, you pussy.”

“Goodbye, Odair.” He hung up the phone with a chuckle, though he knew Finnick had a point. He couldn’t hold onto his feelings forever.  But in the meantime, he could at least ask her about Madge.

********

"Alright guys, remember your papers are due next Wednesday and they're worth a good chunk of your grade. Try to spend a little time on them over the next few days. Have a good weekend!" Peeta called out his final instructions over the excited din of his class, had to bite his lip to hold back the smile at the expletive laden exclamation by one of the kids. He pretended not to notice the way a couple of the girls snuck glances over their shoulders at him as they walked out, giggling behind their hands.

Until Katniss had pointed out to him his appeal to the female - and occasionally the male - student body, he'd been oblivious. Now it just made him feel a little awkward.

He began to clear up his desk, putting the pastel chalks he'd scattered across it back in their case, filed away the examples of expressionist art he'd pulled out to show his previous class. He was tired, and needed a shower and a beer and Katniss. Not necessarily in that order. Preferably all at once.

"Ahhh, Mr Mellark, I've been waiting to see you." He looked up at the sound of the voice, smiled towards the door when he saw Katniss leaning against the frame. She looked petite and lean and casual today, in simple slim jeans, a fitted grey t-shirt and the long chain she habitually wore around her neck.

He wanted to peel her out of all of it immediately.

He glanced behind her out into the hall, happy enough that there were no kids lingering behind her. "Miss Everdeen, what can I do for you? I'm afraid I can't stay long - I have to go home, drag my girlfriend into the shower and do things to her that aren't really appropriate to speak of on school grounds. So..." He raised an eyebrow, watched as her cheeks flushed pink and her feet shifted awkwardly.

"Um...." she trailed off, the cocky smile she'd first sported long gone. “Um..."

"Yes?"

"I, uh...just bring some beers home. I'll - I'll meet you there." She spun on her heel, fled from the classroom.

Peeta chuckled, continued to pack up his things and wondered whether she'd even realised she'd called his apartment home.

********

Her hand clutched at the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging slightly in the way that sent a jolt through his entire body. She knew what did it for him, those little tugs and nips and scraping of nails, in all the right places.  With a muffled moan he captured her mouth with his, a clash of lips and teeth and tongues as his hands clutched at her ass, pulling her closer, his hips thrusting against hers rhythmically.  He let go of her mouth to focus on the long column of her neck, blooming pink, her pulse stuttering madly under his lips as he nipped and laved at the skin.  The water pounded onto his back, pinpricks of heat that fired his blood until he could think of nothing but taking Katniss like this, again and again, for the rest of the night.

Not in here, though, not tonight.  Tonight, he wanted to see her moving over him, her hair like wet trails of silk over her shoulders, their skin damp and heated, as the moonlight covered her skin.

He almost liked that as much as the sun when it painted her body.

Tearing his mouth away from her neck - the mewl of protest falling immediately from her lips - Peeta turned the shower tap off with a sharp slap of his wrist. He pushed the glass door open and wrapped an arm tightly around her waist in the same motion, lifting her feet slightly off the ground.  He strode from the bathroom into his - _their?_ \- bedroom, leaving a trail of water behind them across the hardwood floor, all the while struggling with the way Katniss was now torturing _him_ with her lips attached to his neck.

They tumbled to the bed, and she took control - her legs straddled his hips as she reached for the condom they always made sure was readily available on the bedside table. She rolled it on with practiced ease, their eyes catching as she did so. The lust in the shimmering silvery-grey was palpable; he could only imagine his were clouded with the same. She'd told him once, while drunk, that the midnight shade of blue his eyes turned was often her undoing.

Katniss scraped her nails lightly down his chest, before linking her hands with his and clenching them together at their sides; with a deep breath she lowered herself down, taking him in slowly - _oh god, so slowly_ \- until he filled her.  He closed his eyes, felt himself throb desperately at the feeling of her surrounding him.

Peeta didn’t think he’d ever get used to how amazing this was with her.

He opened his eyes and thrusted up as she began to move, rolling her hips against him hard and fast, skin slapping against skin.  Her hair danced along her chest, his chest, along his cheek, trails of water sliding down his neck to the sheets tangled below them. He couldn't take his eyes off her, didn’t want to tear them away as the pressure began to build. On nights like this when they were this hungry for each other, they never lasted long.  Not the first time, anyway.

Their skin slick with sweat, Katniss began to breathe heavily, her movements erratic, but still setting the pace as his hips snapped up against her. He released her hands, slid his own up her body, cupped and palmed her breasts in his hands. She hissed, her fingers gripping and digging into his sides. He'd have bruises, and he didn't even give a shit. All he cared about was her, and him, and how damn good this felt and how if he never had to leave this bed, he'd be a happy man.

He felt it tingle at the base of his spine, as it began to build inside of him; saw it as her eyes began to flutter closed, as her thighs clenched against his, as her lips parted and her head tipped back, her hair like a wet and silky curtain brushing against his thighs.

She fell first, and he couldn’t help but follow.

_And this time, he couldn’t stop the words from tumbling from his mouth._

********

The air was cool, and the damp sheets didn’t help.

Neither did the foot of space between them on the bed.

He could have kicked himself. _Why did he have to say it? Why did he have to murmur ‘I love you’ at the exact same moment she looked down at him with heavy, satisfied eyes?_

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, half turning to face her bare back and lifting his hand to his face, covering his eyes. “I didn’t mean to say it.  Please don’t be freaked out.”

She didn’t say anything at first, he just heard the sharp intake of breath. “You...you didn’t mean it?”

His brows furrowed in confusion, his hand falling back to the mattress. He shifted so that he was on his back, no longer rolled away from her, as they’d both seemed to have done in the moment of post-coital panic. “Um...no, that’s not what I’m saying.”

Katniss turned around abruptly, twisting in the sheets to cover her bare breasts as she sat up. “Then what are you saying?”

Peeta reached over, flicked on the dim lamp beside his bed before sliding beneath the sheets himself.  For some reason, he felt like he needed to be covered for this conversation. “I, uh..." _Dammit, where were his words? The ones he was supposedly so good with, the ones his mother had been bitterly disappointed he hadn't used towards a political career._ Finally, he shook his head. "I won’t lie to you Katniss.  I can’t, not anymore.  I- I love you.  I’m in love with you, and have been for 6 months.  Possibly longer.  But I only realised it then.” He took a deep breath, ignored the way her cheeks paled. “I didn’t mean to say it because I know you’re not ready, I know you don’t want to hear that yet, and - OOF!”

His breath expelled from his body in one heavy gasp as she flung herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck. She pressed her lips to his, but there wasn’t any heat, no fire.  It was simple, sweet. _Loving._

“Oh god, I thought you’d never say it,” she said, pulling away slightly.

_What?_

“What?” he asked dumbly.

She sighed, resting back on her haunches in front of him. Her hands reached for the sheet again, pulled it up to her chin.  “You kept hinting at it early on, and back then I didn’t know what to think, what to feel.  Hell, I’d only just gotten used to us being a couple, and I was terrified. I didn’t know if I was ready for that yet, if I would _ever_ be ready for it…” She trailed off, and Peeta knew _she_ knew she was rambling.

“And?” He asked gently

She chewed on her lower lip. “Madge and her baby. Dammit, she’s been so happy, and she and Gale are delirious and their happiness is almost vomit inducing and all I’ve been able to think is _I want to be as happy as they are.  With Peeta._ Not with a baby, mind you,” her eyes widened at her almost faux-pas.  “Just the couple-y ‘in-love’ happy.” She paused, blew a tangled strand of hair out of her eyes. “And lately, if it seemed like you were _about_ to say it, you’d always stop, change the topic, change what you were about to say. Even last week I thought it might happen, and then…you didn’t. I’d just figured you would never say it, that I’d blown my chance.”

He cleared his throat. “Has that been what’s wrong this last month or so?” She nodded.  “I knew something was wrong, babe, that there was something off, and I didn’t know how to ask you.”

Her cheeks coloured with shame.  “I felt so dumb.”

“It’s not dumb, Katniss. But right now, I really need you to tell me what you’re trying to say.” _Desperately. He needed her to tell him before his heart pounded out of his chest._

“I…I’ve been wanting to tell you I love you, and I kept waiting for you to say it first. And every time I went to tell you, I’d chicken out because-”

“Can you say it again?” Peeta murmured, not allowing her to finish. He couldn’t help the way his heart somersaulted.

“What?” she asked.

“That you love me.”

“Oh.” She blushed, then smiled. “I love you, Peeta.  I have for a while. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier.”

Peeta grinned, reaching forward and yanking her into his lap. “It’s about damn time, Everdeen.  I love you too. And I have for a while.” He kissed her forcefully, and then spun her over so she was tangled underneath him, her hair splayed out against the pillows. With a smirk, he reached over to the iPod dock beside his bed, scrolled through the artists until he found the song he wanted.

Katniss rolled her eyes, but couldn’t help the smile that tugged on her own lips as she threaded her fingers into his hair. “The Eagles, Peeta?”

“It’s our song,” he told her seriously. “And trust me. This is gonna take all night.”

 


End file.
